182 Days
by SaiyanQueenVega
Summary: In episode 1 Zim spends half a year trapped in a seemingly unequipped voot with a malfunctioning robot hurtling toward... something. But what really happened during those 182 days in space? A/U Earth landing.


**182 Days**_  
>Chapter 1: The Doom Song<em>

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Invader Zim. And I'm fairly sure that the excess _thoughts_ and _feelings _involved with this writing will make that obvious in time.

**Warnings: **Eventual ZADF.

**Rated:** PG

**Summary**: In episode 1 Zim spends half a year trapped in a seemingly unequipped voot hurtling toward… something. All we get is a black screen and "6 MONTHS LATER". But what really happened during those 182 days in space? A/U Earth landing.

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><p><strong>DAY 1<strong>

"How long do you think it will be before he figures out that we didn't equip his voot with any food?"

"Oh he'll probably be too busy trying to plot a course while reining in that scrap of junk you made him to even think of eating for at least a few days."

"Really? I kinda' figured that he'd attempt to call us within an hour to whine about it. _Too bad_ about that broken guidance system… and transmitter."

Both co-rulers burst into a fit of hardy laughter at the thought of Irk's most annoying failure attempting to contact them as he sped through space, toward an uncharted quadrant that they were quite sure had no inhabitable planets. A death alone and confused seemed fitting for Zim.

"I bet you 5 monnies that he starves to death" Purple quipped.

"You give him too much credit. I have 5 monnies that says he'll crash into a stray comet or something first" Red replied. "But speaking of food, I think I smell someone making donuts." With that the two leaders quickly lost interest in the little defective 'invader' they'd sent off and hovered toward the delicious smell of snacks.

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><p><strong>DAY 4<strong>

In fact it took Zim nearly 4 days into his flight through uncharted space before he even realized that he was hungry. During which time he'd first been busy attempting to calm, or at least silence, his robot minion. That proved fruitless, but he'd soon found himself far too busy trying to avoid having his ship crushed in a large asteroid field he'd stumbled across to attempt to pay the thing any conscious attention. But after over 90 hours of claw-biting, nerve-wracking tension he'd exited the field of obstacles and found himself in relatively clear space.

"..doomy doomy doom, doom doom doom.."

"GIR!" The invader's voice was scratchy from lack of use, a very unusual occurrence for Zim. But he'd been forced to abandon screeching at his minion in favor of applying his full and undivided attention to keeping his tiny ship in one piece. But now that they seemed out of immediate danger the robot's non-stop droning ceased being background noise and became annoying once more. He coughed a bit before continuing. "GIR silence your vocal processors before I remove them!"

There was silence, oh precious silence, for several seconds before the robot seemed to take a deep (unnecessary) breath and… "**Doom doom doom, doomie doom doom**…"

The irken's eyes twitched as the robot's volume increased. Forgetting any sense of hunger he ducked under his seat, intent on finding a tool kit or some other implement that could be used to make modifications to his annoying slave's programing. And if nothing else, perhaps a bludgeoning type devise...

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><p><strong>DAY 7<strong>

It was a commonly known fact among irkens, and even a few other unfortunate species, that Zim was a stubborn son of a bitch. Stubborn past reason and beyond rational behavior. But after 3 straight days of nothing but rooting around his experimental SIR unit Zim was ready to give up on silencing it. The thing didn't seem to function by anything that resembled science. _Perhaps the Tallest had it commissioned from a species that used maji crafts? Filthy majins…_ At any rate the invader wasn't feeling up to making any more attempts. His mighty head ached and his hands had started shaking yesterday and hadn't ceased.

"…doomie doomie dooooom, doom doomie doom…"

Zim lamented having been unsuccessful in finding a bludgeoning instrument among the tools stored beneath the pilot seat. But at that moment an instinct even baser than anger or annoyance drove the small being to ignore the yammering robot. Instead Zim pulled himself to his feet for the first time since his take-off and took the 2 steps it took within the cramped ship to access the ship's food storage pod.

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><p><strong>DAY 9<strong>

Denial.

There was nothing wrong. There had been an oversight obviously, but nothing was truly wrong. He was just traveling through a parsec that had extreme magnetism. That was why he'd been unable to access the transmitter to seek advisement from his beloved Tallest. The navigation system would come up any moment and he could locate either an irken friendly supply depot or the armada to turn back. The food thing… well, all the invaders had been in such a hurry to depart, all hoping to be the first to subjugate their planet. He couldn't be the only one in this situation. Right?


End file.
